of all these lost memories tell me it's all my fault you'll be sorry when I'm gone and just take me away and just take me away and just take me away away
hittin' And lyric lickin', flippin' any mix and over the skippin' And cable clippin', still sickenin' Even though some people ain't admitting Through they system I keeps it kickin' And
on parole Ain't changed nothing, cause I'm ready to roll I go to school now, but just to front Still servin dopefiends what they want Count 5 to 10, 10 to 20 And
is that? You in the club minding your own business And out of nowhere you hear this, how you supposed to act? Neptunes, Royce 5'9", it's my year, baby
don't fuck with police And all' beat the dog shit out your nephew and niece If they ever get the snitching, yelling, telling and singing I'ma call the
wrapped fish in it, all smelly and cold From garbage that came from you and me 1.........2...........3...........4............5....... 6..........7..........8...........9.............10... You can't forget 11 and
And that nigga Prod, he's a gangsta I know the game bro and I could be a fuckin' murderer The hot shells melt yo ass G and the Tales From the Crypt
My man looking up to me, he 'bout to sneeze And she treating me like I be New Year's Eve Counting down the seconds untill she sees me (5, 4, 3, 2) One
to me Cause I got it made and the kids look up to me I'm escaladin on them thangs cause I'm young city Pimp pretty things and they go ?fo' a buck fifty
fears, we pass the same years We see the same stars under the same skies We pass the same time, we all live and die 'Cause friends and family wash thicker than blood And
And all That Jazz [Announcer] Make that two) [Velma Kelly] And all that jazz And all that jazz Slick your hair And wear your buckle shoes And all that
house, counting big money is the place for me. Blow good dro, and ride G rides, gangbanging and cane slanging, the whole nine, Chuck Taylors, red strings, and
bet you often wonder how niggas survive in the trail You got jacked and took six and died in your house And motherfuckers sat and grieved your death One of them motherfuckers counted
show dough, little to no dough Sell a bunch of records and you still owe dough I got 900 and 96 plus 4 more dough You crazy, you full gazy, and loco
two thousand and seventy three , two thousand and eighty four , two thousand and ninety three , light years ahead you and me gone be getting down on a
Axl and Slash He likes ben Folds and the jackson 5 He knows all the words to Staying Alive And though he wants to seem all grungy and cool He spent eleven years
One for the money, two for the count Riding in a vehicle I can't even pronouce S.O.D. Money Gang, money keep stacking And I leaked every song and still
